


A pleasant chat

by Miss_Femm



Category: Charade (1963), Wait Until Dark (1967)
Genre: 1960s, Crime, Tea, i just love both these movies and both these characters, two ladies bonding over foiling criminal plots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:28:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24353626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Femm/pseuds/Miss_Femm
Summary: Regina Lampert and Susy Hendrix have a lot in common, dealing with violent criminals and coming out on top chief among them.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	A pleasant chat

**Author's Note:**

> This is an expansion of a silly ficlet I posted on my Tumblr account. There are a lot of similarities between Charade and Wait Until Dark-- I mean, yeah, Audrey Hepburn stars in both, but the two movies also feature a trio of greedy criminals after a Macguffin. I joked that Regina and Susy should get together to bond over dealing with criminal bullcrap and this is the fic that resulted.
> 
> I forgot how much I enjoy writing fic. I've been working on a graduate degree and an original fantasy story for the past several months, so this was a nice little respite.

The afternoon sun slants through the basement apartment window, casting the two women at the small kitchen table in an amber glow. Between them are emptied tea cups, a kettle, and an endless stream of talk.

“Then he started dropping lit matches on me,” says Regina, shuddering a little at the memory. The cramped space of the booth, the heat of the little flame so close to her flesh. She glances down at the glossy monochrome photographs at her elbow on the table, the main reasons she came by the apartment today in the first place: two small girls with her cat-like eyes and their father’s mischievous look. The image grounds her in the present. “It sounds silly when I say it out loud, but trapped alone in that phone booth and having those horrible men threaten me non-stop, you must understand…”

Susy shakes her head. “No, no—I absolutely understand! In fact, mine tried setting me on fire too!”

“No!”

“Yes! He doused my entire sitting room with gasoline! It was just awful, so, so awful. I smelled it before he even said a word!” She gestures towards the door. “Right there. Right after I heard the body fall.” She puts her arm down, then massages it with her other hand as she directs her gaze to the ground for a moment. Regina tries to imagine a man, bleeding and prone, at the foot of the stairs. For some reason, she pictures Tex, the plastic bag over his head, instead.

Susy lets her arm go, then shakes her head again. “We had to replace so much furniture once the police were finished there. In some places, the smell just wouldn’t go…” She casts her eyes back in Regina’s direction. “That was almost two years ago now.”

It was almost funny, how this was going down. Each woman referring to the criminals that had cornered them as “mine,” as though each set were a flea infestation and not a lethal menace. Both Regina and Susy were amused with the lightness with which they could refer to events that had seemed like nightmares at the time.

“I’m shocked you didn’t move,” says Regina. “Don’t misunderstand me, this place is charming, but I’d be on edge.”

“Sam said the same thing,” says Susy. “But we decided it was better to stay. The place suits us.”

“I suppose…”

“Oh, but it all turned out alright,” continues Susy. Her face lights up in a wry smile. “Even after Mr. Roat took out the gasoline, I ended up dousing him with what was left in the tank. Then I thrust lit matches at him.”

Regina cackles at that. “I wish I could have done that with my unholy trinity! Make THEM squirm a little!”

Susy leans back in her chair. The sunlight hits her hair in a way that surrounds it in a vermillion halo, making the contrast with her following words all the more comedic: “Mine squirmed a lot. I could hear his breath hitch.”

“Oh, I’m sure!” Regina absent-mindedly taps the rim of her empty teacup with her spoon. Suddenly, she’s thirsty all over again. And hungry too. But first things first, after all. “More tea, Mrs. Hendrix?”

“I’d like that, Mrs…. um, was it Cruikshank?”

“Last I checked, it was.” Regina grabs the kettle and heads for the stove. “Though he might change his mind one of these days. I’m still holding out for something more elegant…”

Grabbing the pack left on the counter, she lights a match to get the water boiling, then smirks as she watches the flame dance close to her fingertips.


End file.
